


The 'Not Dead Yet' List

by newyorktopaloalto



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Post-Mission, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 21:29:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17352932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/newyorktopaloalto/pseuds/newyorktopaloalto
Summary: Post-mission recreation time always seemed to be more disastrous than the actual missions themselves. SG-1 can never catch a break, and Daniel seems permanently at the top of that list.





	The 'Not Dead Yet' List

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers up to and including 2x02 (In the Line of Duty). Takes place after a SG-1 mission.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate, its characters, or ideas from the show. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoy!

“So, Daniel, how many times are we at now?” 

Daniel gave Jack an exasperated look only slightly undercut by the friendly shaking of his shoulder by the older man. To his furthered chagrin, the colonel flipped open the reporter's notebook that hung on the upper shelf of his locker to peruse the team's informal list of near death experiences. 

“Oof, perpetually at the top of the list, eh?” A click of the pen heralded another tic mark below his name. 

“Must be because of how special I am,” Daniel said after a moment, the sigh as he leaned down to unlace his boots a fine cover for the grunt of pain he would have otherwise emitted. 

“You're something, alright,” Jack agreed, taking a seat on the long bench next to Daniel and nodding at Teal'c who had walked into the locker room with his usual air of efficiency and camouflage. This talent made it difficult to both hear him coming up behind you and for you to effectively sneak up on the erstwhile Jaffa. 

“Is that the list?” Teal'c asked, his nod to the still open notebook underscoring his question; he took the proffered list from Jack and glanced it over for a second, the left side of his mouth quirking down as he took in the little tic marks that ran halfway down the page. 

“I did not believe that there were so many— injurious incidents with SG-1.” 

“We're counting almost dying _and_ people thinking we're dead,” Daniel pointed out, fully aware that if he were not going to be freed from this particular conversation, he would be better off embracing the sentiment for what it was. 

“Oh, did Daniel get another? I almost forgot with everything else.” 

Sam strode into the locker room, a half-smile on her face as she took in the scene before her. 

“Dr. Fraiser clear you?” Jack asked, ignoring her withering look for the set of his own mouth. 

“Clean as a whistle,” Sam said, understanding that the high-alert of her body being her own would not go away for awhile—at least not until something even weirder happened to the group of them and General Hammond had some other pole up his ass. “Not even a cavity, sir.” 

“Didn't know they checked for that,” Jack replied, shooting a grin over to where Daniel was finished unlacing his boots, “I should get checked out too—I have this twitch in my jaw whenever Daniel starts ranting, could be an early sign of a dental problem.” 

“Very funny, Jack.” He blithely ignored Sam's unconstrained smirk and Teal'c's huff of breath that indicated his acknowledgment in human attempt at humor. 

Standing up to—attempt to in a semblance of normalcy—take off his shirt, Daniel paused for a moment before a flush entered his cheeks and he turned to where Sam was idling through her own locker, obviously waiting for him to either leave or tell her to do the same. 

“Let me just get out of your way,” he muttered, happy for the interruption—Daniel didn't want much to show off how much pain he was still in, and pulling off a shirt was a sure-fire way to negate that very thing. If, to be fair, he could have even gotten his shirt off in the first place. 

“Janet told me to make sure that you stop by the infirmary before you go on rec,” Sam said, holding out her hand to forestall any more motions Daniel could make to get away in a sense of propriety she hadn't asked for at the moment.

“Dr. Fraiser seems to not know what doctor-patient confidentiality means,” Daniel retorted grimly, aware of the fact that nothing the doctor had done went against any sort of confidentiality—and even if it were a breach of protocol on a civilian level, Daniel knew that at some point during all of the paperwork, he had sold everything he was to SGC and the United States government despite his ostensible civilian status and Dr. Fraiser could say whatever she wished to whomever she deemed the information necessary to know. 

“What happened?” Jack asked standing up as well and motioning to Teal'c to watch his six as he slowly gained ground on Daniel, pulling up inches away from the doctor as he looked him up and down. 

“Nothing happened, Jack—jeez, give a guy some room.” Ineffectually he tried to wave Jack away from his person, but only found himself bumping into Teal'c, whose chest felt just about as solid on his sore body as a brick wall; despite himself, he winced at the jolt it incurred. 

“Dr. Jackson, I believe it is inadvisable to continue this farce.” One of Teal'c's hands settled on Daniel's shoulder, and Daniel didn't pretend to do anything other than give into what was obviously wanted of him. 

“Well, I almost died, that's what happened.” He nodded towards the list that Jack was still loosely holding. “You put it right there in that book.” 

“Yeah, but if I need you off the mission we got for tomorrow, I need to know today.” 

“We have a mission tomorrow? What about the day's leave we were promised?” 

“On the record, General Hammond says that from MALP readings, P2X-966 requires a special touch that only the flagship team can give. Off the record, you won't see any of SG-3 tonight because they got the shits from eating the local cuisine on PQ7-154 yesterday.” 

Both Daniel and Sam grimaced but Teal'c, true to his usual demeanor, kept his staid complexion through the remark. 

“Oh,” Sam said after a moment of silence, the word almost popping as she scrunched up her mouth in a pucker that belied her attempt to stymie the bizarre humor of the thing. 

“This happened once to a group of Jaffa guards—the planet was deemed unsuitable for Goa'uld use.” Teal'c smiled and Jack understood that there was a joke in there somewhere and he just couldn't find it; Daniel and Sam, apparently being better people, gave Teal'c a perfunctory burst of laughter. From the set look on Teal'c's face in response to their faux-laughter, Jack, now apparently the better person, felt correct in his his choice to keep a neutral expression—he would not admit that it was only because it took until Teal'c grinned that he realized it had been a joke at all. 

“So, what happened to you, Daniel?” 

More than used to taking her prey off-guard, Daniel too fell to Sam's quick question with an easy report on what the doctor had said was wrong with him. She grinned, waggling her eyebrows at Jack at the ease in which she managed to finagle the information out—his nod, the thankfulness masked by the hint of ill-humor in which he took Daniel's prognosis, was all she needed as confirmation that he didn't care who got the information out of Daniel, only that it was gotten. 

“You're not going on the mission tomorrow,” Jack finally stated , and only after Daniel had run out of words to both say how much he was injured and how fine he was, 'really guys, it sounds worse than it looks, I'm _fine_.' 

“But, Jack—” Jack shook his head and Daniel slumped against the locker he found himself swaying closest to, his uninjured shoulder blissfully cool against the metal; Teal'c moved his hand away for a moment before placing it on Daniel's injured shoulder with the intention of showing the doctor both camaraderie and to warn him not to overextend himself in forgetfulness. 

Teal'c raised his brow at Jack in silent question, but the leader of SG-1 shook his head—Teal'c, despite wishing to just take Daniel to the infirmary via a stern and steady force, relented to the colonel's unvoiced command and instead just kept a light hold on the doctor. 

Without further retort, Daniel acquiesced to his team's concerns with a resignedly insouciant shrug. “Let me change first and then I'll go back to the doctor, okay?” 

Sam nodded, quelling the slight urge to buss a kiss against Daniel's cheek in the easy affection that she had only just resigned herself to, and gave Jack a look—the colonel took her look for what it was intended to be, she assumed, as he nodded and motioned to Daniel in a gesture that could only be interpreted as, 'don't worry, I'll take care of the man.' Teal'c, for what it was worth, looked affronted at his job being taken away from him. It only took Jack beginning to worm Daniel's shirt up his torso, Daniel cussing vaguely and in increasingly incomprehensible language at every motion, for Teal'c to take his leave—the show of weakness both fascinated and bemused him and Teal'c, if probed, would say that the frank display of succor unnerved him. Leaving with Sam, who was not uncomfortable with the display of vulnerability but knowing that Daniel would be, Teal'c stood outside the door, knowing it would only be a moment before the other two members of SG-1 would appear once more—there was no need for anyone else in the command center to enter upon a team problem. Sam, lingering with him the doorway, seemed to agree well enough, and he nodded at the captain, her answering smile crinkling the corners of her eyes. 

Sure enough it was only about three minutes later that Daniel and Jack appeared, one of Daniel's button-downs more appropriate on the doctor than a t-shirt would be. Jack and Daniel, the both of them, looked surprised at Teal'c and Sam's wait, but Jack couldn't help the fond smile that overtook his face at the camaraderie apparent in his team—there was something about the four of them that seemed to work better than the other gate teams, and Jack would happily say so, taking whatever jinx might come his way by stating as such. 

“We're having dinner after you get checked out.” Sam answered Daniel's unasked question with ease before looping her arm through his in a way that didn't look like help at all; for a brief and incalculable moment, Daniel could only think of Scout and Boo Radley, and he let himself fall a little more on her in response, her help obvious to any personnel who passed by. 

“What are we having?” 

“Whatever's in the mess,” Jack answered, walking in front of them both as he saw Teal'c flank Daniel's other side. 

“My favorite.” The dry statement, more than any placation Daniel could make in the throes of whatever bout of self-effacement he found himself in, told Jack of Daniel's relative wellness—at least in comparison to what it could be, or what it even had been at some points in the past. 

“The fare in the mess hall is above adequate in nutrition,” Teal'c agreed, “with a more pleasurable taste than most foodstuffs that is easily obtained for military operations.” 

“I'm sure you had better on Chulak,” Sam argued, not about to let someone un-ironically call the food in the mess hall anything more than what it was—basic sustenance. 

“Yes, but not in meals with my fellow guards.” The implied 'only with my family' didn't need to be said, and after a moment where the only sound in the hallway was their collective footsteps, Daniel broke the silence. 

“I hope it's meatloaf.” 

“Ugh, really, Daniel?” Jack didn't care that his tone edged on incredulous as he looked back to where Daniel was now grinning, a waggle of his eyebrows apparent when he saw Jack's turn, as he made fun of Jack right there in front of both Sam and Teal'c. 

“I know it's your favorite, Colonel.” 

Jack scoffed before nodding, almost absently, to a passing soldier—a greenhorn by the frigid way he held himself at the group's passing. “It was the one time. Also, a huge misunderstanding at that.

“And, by the way, Dr. Daniel 'I-was-almost-convinced-to-partake-in-a-public-fertility-ceremony-on-P6R-391' Jackson,” he turned once more to face the three others, his gait never interrupted by the sudden backwards motions it had become, “whatever happened to 'whatever happens on planet, stays on planet'?”

“Apparently it doesn't exist anymore.” Daniel glared but with his glasses slightly crooked, he knew it didn't hold as much impact as it could have. 

“I _will_ be told this story at dinner,” Sam said, looking back and forth between Daniel and Jack as though they were a particularly interesting tennis match, shooting a glance at Teal'c before jerking her head. 

“I concur,” Teal'c agreed after a protracted moment and only after Sam's eyes widened in what he assumed to be a plea for him to agree with her sentiment; her bright smile at his sentence only confirmed his hypothesis, and he nodded above Daniel's head, knowing that the colonel was watching their interaction with a narrowed gaze. 

Another hallway and they made their way to the double doors of the infirmary; Jack opened one side of the doors, gesturing for Sam and Teal'c to bring Daniel through before he, himself, took up the rear position. He waved to Janet who looked more resigned than anything else to see just how bad Daniel had gotten since she had last seen the man, only an hour or so before. 

“I told you it was more than surface bruise, Dr. Jackson,” she chided, gesturing for Sam and Teal'c to set him down on the standing gurney on the side of the room unoccupied by the few members of SG-3 who had suffered from dehydration in their bouts of food-borne illness. “And all you took was the topical analgesic.” 

“I apologize, Dr. Fraiser, I don't know why I never listen to you,” Daniel agreed, easy in his acquiescence as he was bullied onto the thin mattress by two well-meaning and inviolable teammates. 

“The physician's curse,” Janet opined dryly, her stately tone betraying nothing but a mere professional amusement—this, of course, did nothing but endear her further to the team whose well-being depended on her medical competence, and that of her staff. 

“We have to go through another full physical, now.” She brought her stethoscope up to Daniel's chest, before turning to face the rest of the SG-1 crew. “He can meet you once I'm through, you don't have to stay here.” 

“We all find this an acceptable place to wait for Dr. Jackson,” Teal'c said, encompassing both Jack and Sam in his statement, a fact which Sam could not help but a trill of warmth at the newly improved sense of self and place the former Jaffa had seemed to find on Earth—the absence of his family notwithstanding. 

“It's not like it'll take _that_ long, you know what's wrong with the man—he's just a stubborn bastard.” 

Daniel's smile was more of a grimace, and Jack knew that the motion had nothing to do with whatever pain the man might be in.

“Nice,” Daniel replied, rolling his eyes as Sam pursed her lips not to smile and even Teal'c seemed to suppress a chuffed expression, “you guys are—just great.” 

And honestly? He wasn't even being all that ironic.

**Author's Note:**

> xoxo


End file.
